the opposite of amnesia
by Marvelgeek42
Summary: Draco Malfoy hadn't meant to get dragged into the rebellion, really. They had simply been out of milk. Nymphadora liked to think she was born for the rebellion. [Dystopia!AU]
1. not black and white

**For** ** _jellyfishbaby_** **, I hope you like it! I swear I intended it to have more Dramonie.**

 **Also for the** ** _Library Lovers_** **event at** ** _Hogwarts_** **.**

 **Prompts:** Dystopian!AU, Scenario: Catching up on someone's lies, Word: Freedom, Colour: Grey

 **Word Count: 1,005**

* * *

 ** _not black and white_**

* * *

"Draco, be a darling and get us some milk, on the way home from work, will you?" His wife, Hermione, appeared in the doorway, drying a glass with a towel. "We're all out and I need it for dinner tomorrow."

"Of course, honey," he replied, taking the opportunity to kiss her one last time before leaving the house for today.

After a minute, Hermione gently pushed her husband away. "You've got to go and you know it."

Draco sighed and kept his hand on her arm. "You're right. Even if I'd rather stay here with you."

"I know." Hermione smiled. "But you have to go. You're a doctor. You have to go to work. Especially now."

She had a point. He couldn't stay home and let all those poor people who were hurt by the rebels die just because they had been at the wrong place in the wrong time.

"You have a train to catch, baby," Hermione commented as she gave him a kiss on the nose before shoving him in the direction of the door.

Once her husband was safely out of the house, Hermione finally had the time to make a very important and highly coded call.

* * *

Almost ten hours later, Draco was walking down Diagon Alley, the main shopping street in their Quadrant.

Work had been especially trying today—they had gotten close to forty new patients, most of them beyond saving—so he just wanted to go home to his wife as quickly as possible and relax. Why did these stupid rebels have to attack so often?

He couldn't figure it out and, quite frankly, it was better not to think of it. What kind of impression would it give if he started to think more often? At worst, the government would suspect him to be one of the rebels.

And that was really not something he wanted. Those people thought they were so great for resisting the government, but in reality, they were a bunch of children, trying to be heroes. They had no idea what they were doing and harming innocents attempting to overthrow a government that was fine in the first place.

"Excuse me, sir?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Do you have the time?"

Draco turned around. He didn't recognize the tall man that had spoken. Nevertheless, he checked his wrist.

"It appears I have forgotten my watch at home today," he observed. "I'm afraid I cannot help you."

Oddly enough, the other man smiled. It was warmer than any smile Draco had seen outside of his wife. Maybe it had something to do with the darker skin?

"No worries." Then he looked around, before he whispered. "Come with me."

The man almost dragged Draco in the direction of a dark side alley.

This was not something Draco had signed up for, but he knew better than to struggle. The man had to be a government agent and the whole thing must've been a routine check or something. These checks happened all the time in the hospital Draco was working at, so it was no reason to worry, so he just quietly moved along the man.

Hopefully he would have enough time to get the milk once they were done. He'd hate to disappoint Hermione

The two of them entered a house in the alley and went down a flight of stairs or two, before they entered a long tunnel that seemed to have been digged by hand.

Draco gulped. That seemed a lot less like an official thing now. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Hermione looked up as she heard the door opening.

What she saw wasn't at all like she expected.

Granted, she knew that it had to be Harry with the new contact. She simply didn't expect the contact in question to be _her husband._

"Draco?" she asked incredulously before she could stop herself.

His head snapped upwards and his eyes narrowed as they landed on her. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you are," Harry replied. If she had to guess, her best friend had—incorrectly—assumed that they were both a part of the rebellion and just kept it secret from each other.

Unfortunately, that was not the case at all. She was a part of it, sure, but Draco was openly against it. Not only out of obligation, like Hermione was herself, but he truly believed that the government was not doing anything wrong.

"Which is?"

* * *

Draco couldn't believe it.

His own wife was a part of the rebellion! Hermione! He had thought that she was more than smart and sensible enough to know better.

Which he promptly told her.

The man that had led him here—Harry, apparently—stared at Draco like he had grown a second head. "That is exactly why she's here. That's why all of us are here! Except, apparently, you."

"Say what now?" Draco couldn't believe he heard that correctly. "I'm clearly the only sensible person here! _I_ am not the one who lied to my spouse for _years_! I haven't kept secrets upon secrets just to join a group that kills _innocents_ without a cause!"

"Neither did I!" Hermione interrupted him.

"Clearly you did!"

"Yes, I did lie—and there is nothing I regret more in my life—but the rebellion is nothing like that!"

The couple glared at each other with all might.

"We're just fighting for our freedom," Harry interrupted, because he was seriously getting worried that they were going to kill each other. "We're not killing anyone, really." He snorted. "We leave that to the government."

Draco blinked. "Now, listen here. I'm a doctor, I see your victims every day!"

"Wow, it's quite obvious that you have no idea how anything really works."

Draco spun around on his heels.

"Tonks!?"

"Wotcher, cousin." She popped a bubble of bubble gum. "Now, let me tell you what is really happening in the world. It is not as black and white as your precious government claims. It's many many shades of grey and they claimed the darker one."

* * *

 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **~Marvelgeek42**


	2. endless uphill climb

**Written for the _History of Magic_ class at Hogwarts. Prompt: Write about someone leading a rebellion (Note: You cannot write about any of the Golden Trio).**

 **Word Count: 1,011**

* * *

 _ **endless uphill climb**_

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks hadn't been raised in the rebellion, even if both of her parents were a part of it.

They wanted her to make her own choices and choose her own future, even if it meant she supported the government.

Which she didn't. Not anymore.

Back when she was younger, she had trusted the propaganda of the government and consequently the lies they told.

Then, her best friend, Charlie Weasley, had disappeared. There had been no sign beforehand or anything, he just hadn't arrived in school one day.

At first she had assumed that he had to be ill, but when she went to bring him the homework he missed, there was no sign of him or his family anywhere. Some other family had moved in their flat and had claimed that it had been abandoned for years.

That event had sparked something inside her. From that onwards, she began to _listen_ , to _think_.

With that new mindset, it didn't take long until she noticed a few things.

Danae, the major's daughter, always had more than the other students did, no matter what the context was. No one else seemed to notice and Nymphadora was smart enough to keep quiet.

She had finally started to see what happened to those who complained.

They disappeared and were forgotten.

She didn't want that to happen to her.

Nymphadora figured out what her parents were involved in shortly before she turned thirteen.

And boy, it was almost like the rebellion was made for her.

After a three hour conversation to convince her parents, she joined. For the first few weeks, they would only give her simple missions, the kind that even a clumsy almost-teen couldn't mess up.

But she was incredibly good at getting intel. People tended to underestimate children and females, which Nymphadora—she went by another name while undercover, Adrienne—used that to her advantage. She gave the officers a nice, innocent smile, and was mostly left alone.

Mostly was about as much as anyone could hope to dream for in that matter.

Soon, the people in charge began to trust her with more and more. Getting messages of increasing importance from one person to another, figuring out a new safe haven—or five—for their group, trying to figure out routines, and who the most humane government agents were—if she had to guess, Dawlish would win, but she wouldn't even bet a rusty nail on it—and similar tasks were soon added to her repertoire.

Sometimes, she had problems, but more often than not, she figured it out on her own. If not, well, one question from Adrienne, the girl who dreamed to be the best female government agent, had never hurt anyone.

At least not directly, she was a lot smarter than that. She made sure to convince people that Adrienne Roch was a real person. Nymphadora spent a lot of time on it, and by the time she was sixteen, it was foolproof.

She had—against all advice and common sense—tested it. If you asked her, then calculated risks were an important part of life and more importantly the rebellion.

Her ability to put such an amount of work in numerous tasks while keeping her grades up and generally appearing unchanged did not go unnoticed.

She began to climb the ranks faster than anyone remembered before—it was still too slow for her.

By the time she was fourteen, she had surpassed her mother.

By the time she was seventeen, she had surpassed her father.

By the time she turned twenty, there were maybe ten people more powerful than her in their section.

That, however, didn't make her stop.

After a lot of careful consideration, she faked her death as Nymphadora and started to attend one of the few universities as Adrienne. She majored in law and government studies.

Shameless propaganda and brainwashing, but she was well past caring, not that her Professors or anyone else noticed.

She was a very good actress and method acting was her forte.

A few times she had to make choices between classes or helping the rebellion—this usually ended with her inventing some sort of mild sickness or similar and asking someone to take notes for her. They did it more often than not.

Nymphadora knew that she caused both inspiration and jealousy in the ranks of the rebellion. She tried to weaken the latter by helping everyone that asked whenever she was able to, and it worked. It might not have ended the issue, but every avoided infighting could be the difference between winning and losing in the long run.

Her personal favorite missions where those where she gathered intel. It was a lot of fun to play around with the people she wanted to get information out of and figure out what would make them tell. Sweet, innocent, obedient Adrienne or the more aggressive and cold hearted, slightly sadistic Tonks? Or yet again bribes or seduction from a randomly generated alias?

It was different every time and she loved the challenge of it. She was not one of those people that gave up if they reached a dead end.

She reconsidered her actions, figured out her mistakes, and tired again. She wasn't afraid of hard work.

And it payed off.

While she would not claim all of the spotlight, she knew that she had made a major impact on the rebellion in the exact way she wanted to.

Then—she was somewhere around twenty five at that point, quite honestly, she had sort of forgotten—their leader, who went by Wulfric, died.

No one was sure how it had happened, whether it was natural or not, but in the end, it didn't truly matter.

He left a power vacuum and Nymphadora filled it.

It was hard, there was no denying it, but she felt like she was up to it.

She was ready to at least try.

And, considering the fact that her position hadn't changed in the last five years or so—she had literally passed caring before she had assumed the identity of Adrienne Roch—she must've done something right.

* * *

 **FireRuby: Thank you! I hope you still are!**

 **Lw117149: Thank you!**

* * *

 **Tonks' secret identity is named after Adrienne de Lafayette, a historical French person. Roch was one of the first names of her husband.**

 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **~Marvelgeek42**


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